That Lovesick Padawan of Yours
by Narwhalphonse
Summary: In which Obi-Wan tries to be proactive about reigning in Anakin's feelings, and finds himself on the cross instead.


**A/N** : So it's 1am and I'm drinking cherry coke in my bed alone petting my spastic kitten who is constantly trying to bite me and I think you know what tonight needs? Tonight needs an 5k word Obidala fic. Because I've never written them and TFA is almost out the womb so why the hell not?

* * *

Obi-Wan knew.

Of course he did. As attuned to his apprentice as he was, he would have to be willingly blind not to notice. What was more startling was his apparent unrepentance about the whole thing.

"I wish we were allowed to get married," he announced wistfully.

Obi-Wan's eyes grew wide and he nearly choked on his pear. "Please, Anakin, it's too early in the morning for this." He was in no mood for yet another lecture on attachment and possession and et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. He'd beaten the issue half to death in the last three years, and had gotten absolutely nowhere. If anything, Skywalker had only grown more resolute.

"I'm serious, Master! I want to marry Padme someday."

This time he did choke; he beat his chest with his fist, dislodging the fruit stuck in his gullet. _Marvelous. And here I thought we might have a quiet, pleasant Sunday._

The Council had noted early on how troublesome it was that young Skywalker had seemingly a one-track mind, and had gone to great lengths to use this to dissuade Obi-Wan from pursuing training - as they did with each and every perceived flaw the boy had. He'd grown tired of the arguments quickly; he had promised his master on his deathbed that he would train him, and that was simply all there was to it. Besides, he had to keep faith - Anakin would bring balance, someday. He believed that. He needed to believe that.

But this increasing infatuation, this idolatry, with the Queen was worrisome, to say the least.

"I hardly think Queen Amidala, nearly a full grown woman, would be in any position to marry a boy who can't yet grow a beard," Obi-Wan teased, not betraying an ounce of concern in his tone. Chiding him would do no good, as he had learned. Three years, and he was still shooting down this topic of conversation on a daily basis. Anakin had not seen her once in all that time, a fact that Obi-Wan had taken much care to ensure.

Anakin simply shrugged. "One day, you'll see, Master."

 **#**

Hardly a week had passed since Anakin's thirteenth birthday when Master Kenobi received the mandate. He was before the Council the very same day, fear set deep behind his eyes.

"You want us to babysit your Padawan for you?" Master Windu demanded, his lips pressed into its usual hard frown. "This is not a daycare center, Master Kenobi. Your apprentice will accompany you unless you have some reason to believe your task will place him in grave danger. Is this the case?"

Obi-Wan hesitated. "No," he murmured, "at least, not in the way one might think." He took a deep breath, centering himself, grounding his emotions lest he betray anything he did not yet want the council privy to. "As you are all well aware, Anakin has a history of deep personal attachment. He loves very deeply, and he has great trouble in detaching, which often clouds his judgment and his feelings. During the Battle of Theed, we made friends on Naboo whom I do not think it wise for him to meet again."

"Queen Amidala," Windu mused immediately.

Master Kenobi said nothing, lowering his eyes from the elder before him. Of course, it was obvious to them too. Even with the growing disturbance in the Force, it was not hard to feel the strength of the boy's obsession.

A long silence elapsed before a raspy voice broke the tension. "Your judgement in this is wise, I feel, Obi-Wan," murmured Yoda. "Stay on Coruscant, I will. You may send the boy to me during your leave."

The Jedi bowed.

 **#**

Obi-Wan had forgotten just how warm it was on Naboo.

Not scorching hot, like in the sands of Tattooine, or oppressive and heavy in its heat like the wastelands of Ch'hodos.

The air in Theed was comforting, the heat pleasurable, the humidity not unbearable. The steady stream of waterfalls constantly echoing in the background was strangely alluring. Obi-Wan found himself wanting to return here in the future, if only for the chance to meditate in the nature of this world. It was almost enough to make him forget the heat of the pyre he had built when last he visited this place.

His escort, on the other hand, seemed all but bored; she was staring off into space, thumbs idly tapping the outsides of her slacks with hands in the pockets. Officer Nai Unrae was an amicable enough woman, though Obi-Wan could not help but note her lack of professionalism. She was a hired arm, and it was obvious that appearances were the last thing on her mind. Though perhaps if he had been in her place for half as many centuries as she had, he would grow tired of the act as well.

When the train pulled into the station at last, Obi-Wan shifted his robes just slightly to obscure his sabre. He was not here to draw attention, as the Council had stressed more than once. Fixing his eyes ahead once more, he scanned the crowd on the platform out of habit. His senses automatically extended, searching, feeling for anything offputting or out of place. He noticed but one Taigukan leering over a family, giving off an aura of something possessive and troubling, but after a minute of studying him Obi-Wan determined him to be a Galactic Social Services agent, not uncommon to see in interplanetary custody handoffs. Obi-Wan, personally, had never much cared for the GSS and the way they threw their weight around with families already suffering hardship and dysfunction. He made a note to confer with Master Yoda on the matter later, deciding to put it out of his mind for now. Sensing no further threats, his next task was to make it to the palace without attracting any undue notice. _Stars help me_.

"Do you know of any back routes, Officer?" Obi-Wan inquired quietly, tilting his head towards the woman in stride with him. "The Queen required our absolute discretion."

Unrae shook her head. "No, Jedi, our best shot is to appear as civilians on our way to make a case before the Queen. They told me you were talented in mind games, that you could make that happen."

 _Blast_. "I am," he sighed. "Though not my favorite game to play, by far. Secrecy is one thing, but deception..."

The guard shrugged, unperturbed. "As I always says, the ends justify the means. You wanna get into the palace without making a fuss? Do the hand wave."

Obi-Wan couldn't help but give a slight chuckle at that. "Fair enough."

 **#**

Queen Amidala had grown in the three years since he'd seen her. Even as a fourteen-year-old girl, it had never occurred to Obi-Wan to question the fact that she ruled an entire planet. She was a force to be reckoned with, always had been. But seeing her now, nearly a woman, made him feel slightly uneasy in realizing that she had, in fact, been a child with an overwhelming amount of power at her fingertips.

He had barely had a chance to bow to her before he heard the smallest of laughs escape her painted lips. "Master Kenobi, you owe no one such deference, least of all me," the queen smiled. "It's a pleasure to see you again, finally."

Obi-Wan returned her small smile despite himself. "The pleasure is mine."

Her brown eyes flickered to his side for the briefest of moments, searching for something, or someone, who absence was clearly noted. He knew who she'd been expecting to see.

"Your friend Anakin has not come with me, I'm afraid," he told her, and instantly felt just the slightest wave of disappointment roll off of her. "I felt it best to leave him in the custody of the Council for the time being."

The Queen nodded sagely. "Very well; I don't wish to keep you away from him any longer than is necessary, then. Let us take this into my chambers," she declared, eyebrow raised at her entourage. "Privately, if the court will excuse us." As the various faces Obi-Wan did not recognize trailed away, Amidala led the Jedi down a long, strangely sparse hallway, her heels clacking, echoing against the pristine tile floors, then around a corner and to a small set of double doors, ornately decorated in brass and marble. Her enormous purple-and-white skirts forced him to walk nearly three yards behind her for fear of stepping on the dress and tearing the tulle. The pair stepped past two bodyguards and into a small, dome shaped room, with one chair behind a desk and two opposite. A black rug covered most of the white floor, several holograms adorning the walls - personal images, from the looks of it.

If the queen noticed the look of confusion that crossed the jedi's face, she said nothing of it. Gathering up her massive train, she settled into the larger seat, tucking a loose strand back into her intricate bun. The girl hummed for a long moment before meeting his eyes.

"Master Kenobi," she murmured, "we don't have much time for small talk, however with you being forced to return here for me, I must ask - how have you been? The last I saw you, you had suffered a great loss. I can't imagine returning to Theed has been easy for you."

He froze for a moment before shaking his head; he had not expected her to be so blunt. "I appreciate your concern, truly. But I will be quite alright, Your Highness, of that I can reassure you." He met her eyes and was surprised at the unguarded warmth and concern there. Obi-Wan folded his hands in his lap. "Qui-Gon died defending a cause he believed in, and I know he would have done it again." Still she merely watched him, offering him no response. At a loss of how to continue, he quickly switched tracks, cracking a smile. "And might I ask how her Royal Highness has been holding up? A life of political meetings sounds so riveting," he teased.

She returned his grin, the red paint on her lips shining. "The meetings may be dry, Master Kenobi, but I assure you that I enjoy as much of life as I can see past my bodyguards," she quipped. With a sigh, the queen continued, "Let me begin by stressing that your discretion in this is of the utmost urgence," she stated. "We have worked so hard to forge a relationship and bury old grievances, and this easily undo the last three years of our efforts. The people are so happy right now, happier than I've ever seen them," the queen murmured softly, distracted for a moment. Her fingers found a silver bead threaded into the skirts on her lap, rolling it in her palm absentmindedly. She continued, "I have been informed by Boss Nass that a Gungan commander, Issnoo, is officially absent without leave, after declaring himself allegiant to the Old Order of the Gungans. What that means, exactly, I do not know," she interjected quickly at Obi-Wan's confused expression, "except that he suspects that Issnoo has rejected the alliance with the Naboo. I have been told to consider him dangerous and a direct threat to my security," she finished, eyeing Obi-Wan warily.

 _Her life is in danger, and she still only thinks of her people,_ he mused. He could not say the same for many politicians he had ever met.

The Jedi nodded resolutely. "You need me to find him."

Her shoulders, usually so square and sure, tensed ever so slightly. "I can't trust my guards to handle this with the level of discretion I require," she reiterated, regret coloring her tone. "I knew it would take subtlety and wisdom beyond their training."

Obi-Wan leaned forward, catching her eye. "I give you my word, milady, I will do everything I can to keep this quiet. And I _will_ keep you safe."

The queen smiled warmly up at him then, her teeth dazzlingly white. "I know you will."

 **#**

As it turned out, it was not particularly difficult to locate a rogue, seven foot tall, orange ex-Commander with a vendetta against the queen of the entire planet. What required more effort was to keep him in custody and deliver him to the palace without a soul catching wind, including palace security. It required a great deal of mind control, which Obi-Wan was sorely averse to, and helping Queen Amidala concoct a plan to get the security staff as sparse as possible without arousing suspicion.

With the Gungan in cuffs, the Jedi stood guard at his side, waiting for the queen to arrive in the throne room. Obi-Wan was increasingly tense, glancing anxiously at the door, struggling to keep a fuming Issnoo under control. When she finally arrived, she was accompanied by none other than Boss Nass, whom Obi-Wan barely recognized. He had little knowledge of the Gungan race, but surely they didn't age _that_ fast...

Issnoo recoiled instantly. "Nass!" he seethed, spitting in his direction. "Traitor, liar, yousa pissass-"

The queen held up a small hand, which, to both Obi-Wan and Nass's apparent surprise, silenced him. "We have no interest in revisiting old feuds, Commander Issnoo," she declared, ignoring the way that Boss Nass's lip curled at the use of the stripped title. "I have heard you've been looking for me. You may speak freely, before your fate is decided."

"Meesa didn't come here to talk," Issnoo hissed. In a move that was almost too quick to see, he tore his wrists in opposing directions, effectively shattering his restraints with a strength the Jedi would not have thought possible. He paused for a split second, stunned.

That single moment of surprise was too much, too costly.

The girl let out the briefest scream before her air flow was cut off, the Gungan's hands wrapped around her slender throat, a guttural snarl rippling from his own. Her brown eyes went wide as she panicked, desperate for oxygen. A cry for help could hardly make its way past her lips.

Obi-Wan remembered himself and his sabre was in his hand in an instant. He had not been given express permission to kill or even harm the former Commander, but once he laid his hands on her, all bets were off. His mission first and foremost was to protect his charge, mandated by the Council. That is what he would reassure himself of later, when they were lowering Issnoo's body into the ground.

But in that moment, all he could think was, _Padme_.

 **#**

With Issnoo's remains a smoking heap on the ground, and Boss Nass gathering the remains to clear the throne room, Padme was in Obi-Wan's arms, his eyes frantically searching her face to assess the damage. She was pale, and coughing, but still conscious. Her body felt so small and fragile, trembling the way she did against him. She sputtered trying to thank him, and he merely shook his head, pressing a finger to her warm lips.

"I am so sorry, milady."

* * *

When next he saw her, she was no longer a queen, but a Senator of the Galactic Republic. Obi-Wan couldn't help but shake his head a little at the thought. Was this woman doomed to have her whole life consumed in politics?

Still, she looked markedly happier now, less weighed down. Her hair was in a simple bun and she was no longer draped in enough skirts to clothe a small planet. Obi-Wan liked to think himself practiced in the art of restraint, but he could not help but notice how beautiful she had become, growing into her own as a woman.

And of course, her eyes shifted immediately to Obi-Wan's companion.

"Ani!" she exclaimed, doe eyes bright. "It's been so long."

Anakin beamed back at her, his toothy grin bordering on idiotic. Obi-Wan sighed; he was never going to get a handle on this. Try as he might to convince the Council this was a bad idea, they had decidedly had enough of the whole issue and more or less ordered him to see to it that he resolved it once and for all. So when they were to meet with her on Coruscant, it was the perfect opportunity for things to go horribly, horribly wrong.

"Mind your manners, young one," Obi-Wan murmured.

Anakin looked flustered as he bobbed his head in respect, cheeks turning bright red. "Lady Padme, I've missed you," he blurted, his face positively enflamed now.

Senator Padme grinned, and her eyes traveled to Obi-Wan for a moment before returning to Anakin. "I've missed you too."

 _Wonderful_.

 **#**

With whispers spreading of this new Separatist movement forming, and with tensions so high, the Senate had decided to throw a last-minute gala to raise morale. Politicians from all over the galaxy were on their way in, every landing bay booked for the week. Chancellor Palpatine himself was sponsoring the event, a rather odd gesture according to anyone with any thoughts on the matter. Several royal figures were expected, those who could make it on such short notice. Call it pessimistic, but Master Kenobi had a strong feeling there was something amiss about all of this - it was to rally the spirit of the Republic, yes, but gathering so many political figures under one roof just begged for suspicion.

His padawan pulled him out of his head abruptly. "Master," he called from across the room, his voice breaking the way it so often did these days. Puberty had hit him late; he was nearly seventeen now, his voice had just recently dropped. "Do we have anything nicer to wear?"

Obi-Wan shifted his gaze from the window he'd been staring at absentmindedly for the past five minutes. He shook his head. "I'm afraid not, Anakin. Might I remind you the loathsomeness of vanity." He paused, stroking his stubble for a long moment before he crossed the suite they had been assigned to stand by his apprentice. "In fact, Anakin, I believe we need to have a talk before we leave."

Anakin froze, dark cloak in hand. He looked up at his master with wide eyes. "Talk about what?"

Obi-Wan sighed. "You must be mindful of your feelings, as we've gone over a thousand times." The words were patronizing, but his voice remained soft. This was a tough subject, no matter how many times they had discussed it in the past. "I know how you feel about the senator, young one. I'm sure it is a difficult emotion to reign in - but please, you must try." His eyes searched Anakin's, begging him to listen to him for once. "This is not a road you can allow yourself to continue on. It will only bring you heartache. You have made your choice; please remember that."

Anakin's eyes suddenly turned to fire, glaring at his master. "I-" he began, then quieted himself. Looking away, he apparently swallowed whatever thought had been on his tongue. He took a deep breath, then muttered, "Yes, Master."

 **#**

The event was not so grandiose as the Chancellor had purported it to be, it seemed. Either that, or the late scheduling had proved a greater difficulty than he had foreseen. In fact, the ball was almost intimate. Obi-Wan was surprised by how many faces he recognized; Anakin, fewer, but he took it upon himself to make introductions at every opportunity. It was always good to have friends in whatever dark corners of the galaxy these people had come from, just in case.

He had instructed his apprentice to stay by his side as they acted as security, never mingling with the crowd on the dance floor. They remained seated at their assigned table or watching the doors as needed. But when Palpatine took the podium and declared the next dance ladies' choice, Obi-Wan was left unable to put his foot down as Padme approached the pair, eyes bright.

"You two have been sticks in the mud all night," she announced with a smile, extending her hand to Anakin. "Don't let this one stiffen your upper lip, Ani," she joked, eyes traveling up to Obi-Wan. "Come have a dance." He didn't bother to ask permission, not that Obi-Wan would have denied him anyway. So much for their talk. Master Windu would not be pleased.

It was several minutes later when a voice behind him made him jump. "Are you going to sit and stare all night, Master Kenobi?"

Obi-Wan shook his head, looking up at the cloaked figure behind him. "Chancellor Palpatine," he murmured, bowing his head. He gestured to the empty seat beside him, which he took with a small smile.

"Master Kenobi, if I may - you've been watching those two quite intently, and some are beginning to notice. She does look somewhat uncomfortable... I can have someone discreetly break them up, if you should need it." There was genuine concern in his voice, and Obi-Wan felt grateful at his offer.

"Thank you, Chancellor, but it would be cowardly to send a decoy to discipline my apprentice for me. I will handle it."

Palpatine cracked a rather unsettling grin at that. "I'll trust your judgment, Master Jedi."

 **#**

How he found himself in his Padawan's place, he had no idea.

He had only meant to separate the two, not to invite him to switch. Yet her face lit up when he approached, grateful for the interruption. now the senator's small body was pressed up against him, her delicate hand unbearably warm in his own. He cursed the rush of warmth that flowed through him at her touch, drawing on every breathing exercise he had ever been taught to control himself. He had never been this close to a woman before, ever; his training had not detailed how to handle this, any of it.

She must have sensed his nervousness; it wouldn't take someone Force-sensitive to feel it. "What's wrong?" she breathed, her expression twisted up in concern.

He met her eyes and decided at once to sidestep the issue entirely, directing the conversation elsewhere. "I'm rather confused," he admitted. "You seemed so happy to see Anakin again... you invited him to dance. And yet you practically pushed the boy off of you when I approached."

Padme sighed. "I wasn't expecting him to be so... intense," she muttered vaguely.

He didn't need clarification. He'd heard it incessantly for years. "The boy is in love with you," he told her simply. He twirled her as the song picked up the pace, bringing her back in with ease.

The senator sighed, sliding her hand back up to its perch on his shoulder. They spun around an elderly couple who appeared to be half asleep, shifting their weight from foot to foot without much intention of keeping the flow with the rest of the guests on the floor. "I know. And truly, he was one of the first genuine friends I ever made whom I've been able to trust entirely. He's so blunt, so honest. Sometimes it seems like everyone else in the galaxy is scheming or plotting, even over things like what to have for dessert. Ani's presence is... reassuring."

Obi-Wan chuckled at that. "Blunt and honest, indeed," he muttered, though his heart went out to her. He knew what it was like to feel alone in a world seemingly full of deception. As brave and steely as she may present herself, Obi-Wan felt he was seeing more and more of a side of her that was softer than she let the world know. "I know what you mean."

"As are you," she said abruptly. They slowed for a moment while their eyes met. "Maybe not blunt, but honest. I know that I can trust you with my life."

There was a long silence before Obi-Wan leaned forward ever so slightly. "Milady, maybe you ought to follow suit of everyone else in the entire galaxy, and leave the latent melodramatic seriousness to me."

Padme froze before bursting into laughter. The sound warmed him deeply, and the hand on her hip gave her a small squeeze despite himself.

"I'm sorry, Obi-Wan," she grinned.

"Its quite alright. But I am glad you feel that way, considering..." he trailed off, casting his gaze away from her.

She seemed to sense where he was going with the train of thought. One small finger tapped his chin, pulling him back to look at her. "I do," she said softly. "As I've told you before, I've forgiven you with what happened with Issnoo. Actually," Padme shook her head, "no - there was nothing to forgive. I'm still alive; you did your job. And I am grateful to you."

Obi-Wan nodded, pulling her toward him as he spun them, skirting a pair of men positively clinging to one another. "Still, I feel indebted to you for the lapse. Anything that you need, you may call on me." His tone left her no room to argue.

"I know what I need," she announced, raising an eyebrow. "Will you protect me from your lovesick apprentice?" Padme grinned.

He returned her smile, throat tightening just a little, unable to laugh at her joke. "Of course."

* * *

Corde was dead.

Security had not breathed a word of it, and in the Senator's speech in the meeting hall, she had failed to mention it as welll; Obi-Wan might never have known. All the time that he had spent cooped up aboard the jet with the then-queen's handmaidens on Tattooine, and he never bothered to learn any of their names. It was largely out of a gut instinct to stay away from girls whenever possible (where in blazes had he lost that instinct? Stars knew he could use it now), but also partially because they really did stay mostly to themselves. In hindsight, he supposed it made sense, considering the secret they were keeping.

It was, surprisingly, not a Force disturbance that tipped him off that anything was wrong. Rather, it was the faintest sound of a woman crying carrying softly towards him as he made his way to the elevator of the senatorial suites. He wound his way around the floor until he found her - a ball on the floor, staring out the vast windows into the neverending cityscape. She had pulled a large robe around her tiny frame, hugging it to her tightly.

"Padme?"

Her gaze flashed up to his face, her expression startled. Surely she must have heard him approaching? With a sniffle, she quickly wiped her cheeks and scrambled to her feet, shame washing over her features. "Master Kenobi, I-"

Obi-Wan quickly held up a reassuring hand to quiet her. "Milady, what troubles you?" he all but whispered.

With one arm still grasping the robe desperately, she debated for a moment before wiping her eyes again. "She - she's dead," Padme confessed, her voice breaking. "I've known her since I was little, Obi-Wan, we went to school together, she was my best friend-"

"Who, Padme?"

"Corde. My decoy. She was killed today, when we landed," she sobbed.

Obi-Wan, forgetting himself, pulled her into his arms, letting her soak his heavy robes. Her lithe arms wrapped around him, burying her head in his shoulder. After a few minutes, she pulled back just enough to cry, "Where does it end? I've lost my best friend, you lost your mentor - how many lives have to be lost because of me?" her shoulders shook as a tremor wracked her. Padme stared up at the Jedi who held her. "I can't do this, Obi-Wan, not if this is the price to be paid."

He kept a steady grasp on her, afraid she might collapse. Stars knew when last she had slept; the circles under her eyes were visible now after the day's makeup had been washed away. Obi-Wan shushed her, rubbing her shoulder in consolation. "This isn't your fault, milady, you mustn't blame yourself. There are larger forces at work here, battles being fought which are greater than you, or I, or even your entire planet. We must continue to fight for what is right, you know that in your heart."

Sniffling again, she nodded, more tears pooling in her eyes. "I know that, I do, but-"

"No," he interrupted, maybe harsher than was needed. "You cannot let yourself go down that road, Padme, you must trust me on this. It isn't healthy. I won't stand to see you get hurt even more than you already have been, especially by your own hand."

Her fingers curled around a fold in his hood, her head still slowly shaking back and forth. They were quiet for a long moment before she gazed up at him suddenly, the city lights illuminating her face in a bluish glow. Padme whispered, "How is it you always seem to find me when I need you, wherever I am?"

Obi-Wan froze, his gaze locked with hers, neither moving away like they should. He had no answer to her question. He had no answer to anything, at all, at the moment. And it was there, alone over the vast reaches of the city, she wholly undone in her nightdress and he apparently out of his mind, that he lost all grip on his judgment, and gave in to the woman who'd lived in his periphery for so many years. Obi-Wan's eyes fell heavily shut as he sealed his lips against hers.

Her arms instantly threaded themselves around his neck, pressing her body to his as close as she could manage. His hands wandered from her shoulders down to her hips, tracing patterns on the wondrous landscapes of her figure. She kissed him back desperately, as though she were dousing a fire with the energy she consumed from his body. All sense of time fled the pair for a short while.

It was only when an incredulous, "Master?" pierced the silence was Obi-Wan jarred into remembering himself, breaking away from the slender woman in his arms. What he saw in the hallway would haunt him.

For as long as he lived, he would never forget the look of utter betrayal in his Padawan's eyes.

* * *

 **A/N:** I couldn't tell you why, but I swear to god, refraining from typing out "their tongues battled for dominance" took every last ounce of restraint I have... sometimes I miss 2009. Anyway. I sort of really want to rewrite episodes 2 and 3 centering the story on a love triangle between these three, but that requires way too much worldbuilding/research and shit dude, I still have a fullmetal alchemist fic from 3 years ago I'm trying to finish, not to mention my own personal project. But I gave it a stab to get out some feels. Not as great as it could have been, I think, but it's hard to fit the amount of narrative and buildup that these two would require into a oneshot. Anywitch, tell me what you thought, please ?


End file.
